


Ptolemy Dorm

by blessedharlot



Category: The Great Library Series - Rachel Caine
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Wrong Window Trope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-07-23 12:13:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20008111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blessedharlot/pseuds/blessedharlot
Summary: They're college students, and there's a funny dog. Jess and Morgan get a meet-cute.Please enjoy the silly fluff.





	Ptolemy Dorm

Morgan awoke to the sound of her bedroom window banging wide open -- making the rainstorm outside suddenly louder and quite a bit more indoorsy. Soon after came the deep, soggy thuds of something, probably a person, hitting her dresser and then her carpet.

Her first thought upon waking up to unexpected sounds was wondering if she had put on any clothes after her shower, like she’d intended to. She had in fact had a bit to drink earlier in the evening, and wasn’t thinking clearly by bedtime. 

But she reached down under the covers and found herself in her Space Camp sweatshirt and some boxer shorts, so that was one panic averted.

Now there was the matter of the window-climbing stranger -- now on his knees, holding his head and saying “Shit!” repeatedly on her dorm room floor.

She had just registered that the intruder’s level of confusion matched her own when distant, persistent barks were added to the cacophony of incomprehensible input Morgan was taking in.

_ Barking? Oh wait _ , Morgan thought,  _ the new suite-mate said something about a dog. I wasn’t expecting a dog when I moved in. I wasn’t expecting window-hopping strangers either, but here we are, and it’s only the first week. _

She fumbled for a light, and finally found the desk lamp that was currently functioning as her nightstand light (sitting on the cardboard box currently functioning as her nightstand).

With a light now on, Morgan swung around to inspect the figure on the floor.

He was skinny; that was her first thought of him. She could take him if she had too. He was also drunk, drunker than she had been, wet hair plastered down on unfocused eyes and a befuddled brow. He wore a button-down shirt for his intruding duties - one of the bland plaid patterns that made Morgan think of accountants - with some older jeans and the grubbiest, most worn out pair of sneakers Morgan had seen in a long time.

She climbed past him rather easily to close the window and stop the water pooling on her dresser, though she was at a loss to do anything but stare at her wet dresser. Had she unpacked a towel yet? She couldn’t recall.

She swung back around and found the guy still looking quite unthreatening.

“Are you… okay?” Morgan asked, in between the soggy pile of intruder’s muttered expletives and the muffled barking. She wasn’t yet sure that she cared one way or the other. But rainwater would be easier to clean from her carpet than blood. She should know what she would be dealing with.

“Are you the reason Santiago’s had the door locked all day, then?” he said angrily, over now slightly louder barking.

_ Oh good, he’s a  _ **_rude_ ** _ soggy pile of intruder. _

“This is not Santiago’s room,” she said icily. “He’s in the next suite over. This is Hault’s room, which would be me. And considering you’re dripping on my floor and interrupting my sleep, you could have a more polite tone.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, and then warily looked around at her half-unpacked possessions filling the room. When his gaze landed on her Taylor Swift “Delicate” lithograph already hanging on the wall, his shoulders slumped, an even deeper defeat than before blooming across his face.

“You climbed inside one window too early, I do believe.” Morgan enjoyed explaining his mistake.

Just then, the bathroom door opened. 

Morgan’s suitemate had traveled over from her room through the connecting bathroom. She and her dog, waddling grumpily next to her, had clearly both heard the ruckus. 

“What on earth?” The suitemate’s voice got shrill with surprise at the foreign heap on the floor. “We have an attack dog!” she warned, staying behind her snarling dog.

The now sheepish intruder staggered partly to his feet... then seemed to think better of sudden movements, now that an attack dog was involved. He sat back down and stayed still, hands weakly raised.

Morgan thought his dog-related hesitation remarkable since the attack dog was a Dachshund, who was short even for a Dachshund. Morgan was especially surprised that the intruder’s instinct was to stay on the ground since that just put more of him within reach of the tiny, mad weiner dog.

Morgan felt just a bit too tipsy still to have to manage all this trouble. She couldn’t even remember the suitemate’s name yet.

“Sic ‘em, Tawil,” the suitemate said. ‘Sic ‘em!”

At that, every inch of that foot-long dog went ballistic. Morgan saw a flash of fangs and demonic eyes, before the intruder realized his mistake and hopped nimbly back on top of Morgan’s dresser.

“Hey! Stop!” he cried. “I didn’t mean it! Stop! It was an accident! Call him off! Please!"

“Why are you climbing into Morgan’s window at 2 o’clock in the morning?” the suitemate demanded. She snapped her fingers twice, and the dog went from frothing at the mouth to just standing stock still and growling.

The suitemate remembering Morgan’s name was going to make it much more awkward to ask for hers again.

“I thought it was mine, the window, I must have counted wrong,” the intruder said. “My name is Jess. I’m supposed to be rooming with some asshole named Santiago, who’s had the deadbolt locked all day. I just… I just want to get to my bed.”

“If you’ve been locked out all day,” the suitemate said with a sigh, “why on earth did you wait until the middle of the night to break in?” She was angry, but she was now leaning against the doorframe instead of tensing up to high alert at Jess. Morgan also finally noticed that - while she had had a lovely, glamorous scarf on her head all day, the suitemate now had the most hideous polyester tube of fabric on her head that Morgan had ever seen. Emergency night scarf was not a good look for her.

“I don’t know,” he said, at a bit of a loss. “It was going to be a tricky climb no matter what. I tried to give him some time to finish whatever he was doing. Then I was waiting until the rain let up. And then…”

“And then there was some extensive alcohol that needed drinking?” Morgan chimed in.

“I’m not drunk,” he insisted. “I just… did a little celebrating.”

“Celebrating what?” she asked.

Jess looked rueful. “… parental expectations,” he finally said. 

“Ew,” Morgan said sympathetically.

A knock at Morgan’s door then startled them all.

“Is everything alright, Morgan?” A deep voice with a German accent called through the door.

“Who is that?" the suitemate asked.

Morgan stopped herself just before saying his name, wondering if she could finagle her suitemate into introducing herself. Instead of answering, she got up and swung the door open.

It did not surprise Morgan to find a slightly familiar, very large boy standing outside - broad-shouldered, almost tall enough to need to stoop to get in, blond mop on his head. Thomas had an adorably concerned look on his face each time Morgan had run into him so far.

"We're alright," Morgan told him. "The weiner dog is handling the danger."

"Oh!" Thomas said, surprised to find the animal. "Hello, little friend!"

Thomas crouched down, and the weiner dog trotted over to him, abandoning his growl-drooling at Jess still perched on the dresser top

"You're an excellent watchdog, aren't you, little friend?" Thomas said, scritching the dog's ear. The dog flipped over on her back and presented her belly for rubs.

The suitemate looked agog. "That's remarkable. I have never once seen her do that to a stranger."

"Well, then let's not be strangers! I'm Thomas Schreiber."

"Khalila Seif," the suitemate said.  _ Yes! _ Morgan thought.  _ I thought there was a K in there somewhere. _

"And I know Morgan," Thomas said.

"Hi, Thomas," she smiled warmly. Morgan decided she might need to make sure Thomas found the proper type of girlfriend. He gave off a distinct farm boy vibe.

"And you on the dresser, you are?" Thomas asked.

Jess waved nonchalantly. "Jess. Hello."

"Jess," Thomas said. "Did you come through the window?"

"I did," he replied. "I was aiming for my own window."

"Wouldn't your door have been easier to aim for?" Thomas asked. "Especially considering we are on the third floor."

"My suitemate had other plans," Jess replied. "I guess technically I don't even know which of the next two windows over are mine."

“He decorated the far bedroom,” Khalila said, pointing down the hall. “I saw earlier today... when he hit on me while I was headed to the trash chute.” Khalila rolled her eyes. “This bedroom must be yours.” She pointed directly at the side wall of Morgan’s room.

At that, the distinct sound of a guy snoring immediately reverberated through Morgan's wall, as though it had originated in a bed just on the other side.

Just then another face popped in behind Thomas -- a butch, muscular girl who Morgan couldn't remember the name of either. She’d met a lot of people before drinking this evening.

_ She’s the RA, _ Morgan thought. 

The dog took one look at her, yipped, and ran back into Khalila's room.

"Is there something up in here that I need to worry about?” The RA asked drowsily.

"Hi Glain," Khalila said. "Sorry to trouble you. We have a resident out of pocket."

“That was a lightning fast response from the authorities," Morgan said. "Did we disturb your sleep?”

Glain glared at her. “Look, unless the fire alarms go off, I’m a pretty heavy sleeper. Considering you wanna keep a yippy little dog in here, I think that generally works in your favor. But the dog noises did concern my suitemate Izumi enough that she came and woke me up to check. So. You now get the gift of my presence. What can I do to solve this so we can all get back to sleep?”

“He can’t get into his room," Morgan said, pointing.

Jess - still dripping, still on the dresser, and still glassy-eyed drunk - gave Glain a casual little wave, as if to clarify he was the "out-of-pocket" resident.

“Where’s your key?” Glain asked him.

“It’s right here," he patted his pocket, "but it doesn’t work on the deadbolt.”

Glain sighed. “Santiago’s not supposed to engage that without you accounted for.”

“And yet, here we are,” Morgan replied.

“The second room in my suite is empty,” Thomas said. “Why don’t you come sleep there tonight, friend, and we’ll sort your room out tomorrow.”

“You mean we’ll break in to my locked room and I’ll beat up my new roommate tomorrow," Jess said.

"Agreed," Glain replied.

“I’m sure we can make him see the light without violence,” Thomas said.

Glain looked less agreeable.

“Well, while you have him cornered for conversation, or whatever,” Khalila said, turning back toward her room, “Ask him to wear less cologne, too. It’s a chore just living on the same hall with him."

Then Khalila stopped cold in the bathroom and gasped. 

"Tawil!" she said. "BAD DOG!”

"What did she do?" Thomas asked.

Khalila groaned in exasperation, staring into her room. 

"She begged me for a York patty earlier this evening. It's chocolate, she shouldn't have it! Now she's gone and found the bag, taken a single bite from… it looks like each and every one! And left the mess on my bed!"

Morgan guffawed. Jess laughed along quietly.

"Should we take her to the emergency vet?" Thomas said, concern etching his face.

"No, she'll be fine." Khalila's voice faded away as she passed through the far end of the bathroom into her room. "She steals chocolate all the time. You naughty girl!"

Khalila closed her bedroom door. Glain whispered to Thomas, who nodded, and Glain left too.

Morgan stood and offered a hand to Jess, still folded up on her dresser.

"I guess I have a bed for the night," he said as he scrabbled down. "Thank you for not shooting me. And for so quickly befriending people with extra beds."

"We've all got our talents, I suppose," Morgan said. "Get some rest. Do you have class tomorrow?"

"Eight a.m.," he said ruefully. "Wolfe. Have you heard of him?"

"I have. We'll suffer through him together."

"Are the rumors that bad?"

"The worst," she smiled.

"Wolfe?" Thomas echoed from the hallway. "I have him too! I think most of the hall will. We can study together!"

"Yes, won't that be fun?" Jess said, looking back at Morgan as he walked out of her room and into the hallway. He was trying to hit a sarcastic tone, and mostly succeeded, but he was clearly finding Thomas' smile as infectious as Morgan had. 

Jess had a lovely smile himself, even while quite damp and drunk.

Morgan leaned on her door and watched Jess and then Thomas enter Thomas' room. Jess threw Morgan a look under Thomas' arm just as he closed the door, getting one more flash of a grin to her before they were separated.

Morgan closed her door and lay back down with a smile on her own face.


End file.
